


Night Fever

by Daydream_Emporium



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Coworkers to lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Femdom, Reader-Insert, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:07:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23905918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daydream_Emporium/pseuds/Daydream_Emporium
Summary: You left the mob behind years ago but a job offer from Falcone - to keep an eye on his "housekeeper" - is too good to pass up and too good to last. So now Liza's dead and you're stuck with no job unless you're willing to keep on with Falcone who wants you to do the unthinkable: work with Victor Zsasz again.
Relationships: Victor Zsasz/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Night Fever

**Author's Note:**

> The proper title for this should really be "Night Fever v2.0". I initially wrote this way back in 2014 when season one was first airing and posted the first chapter on here several years ago. Now that I'm rewatching the series I've decided to revive and perhaps finally finish this crazy thing.

"Yeah, I'll be there in a moment," you holler as you force yourself out of bed. If it was those damn missionaries again you were going to scream.

Whoever it was had the good sense to stop knocking and wait for you to slip on a robe and stumble to the door.

"Yeah, what do you... want...," you trail off as recognition hits you. You still had nightmares about that grating voice and stupid bald head.

"Oh no. No no no!" you take a hasty step back and put your weight into slamming the door. Before it can latch the person on the other side does the same. There's a loud thud and enough force that you're jolted harshly and pushed back a few inches. You brace the side of one foot against the hallway wall and give another good push, hoping against hope, but your stocking feet just slide against the hardwood floor. You're locked in a stalemate with the door halfway open.

"It doesn't have to be like this," Zsasz says jovially from the other side of the door.

"I - i - is Falcone crossing off liabilities? Is that what this is?" you can hear your heartbeat in your ears threatening to deafen you. You'd gotten complacent. The old you would have checked the peep hole, would have grabbed a knife.

"It's not like that," Zsasz says in that near deadpan you'd tried to forget. You shift your weight so you can shoot him a disbelieving look through the crack in the door. He has one foot against it but doesn't look like he's using most of his weight. This is bad. So bad.

"I've got a job offer." he elaborates.

"What? From Falcone?" he gives the tiniest of nods.

"For me?" in your shock you almost let go of the door. Zsasz gives you a delighted look.

"Don't tell me you actually like serving up pancakes to the ungrateful public."

Oh no. He's been keeping tabs.

You pull back behind the door and hope he didn't see the look of obvious terror on your face. You rest your head against the cool wood, try to focus on the texture of the peeling paint and steady your breathing.

"I'm not interested in whatever he's offering."

"I haven't even told you what kind of job it is."

"The list of things I'm qualified for is pretty short, Vic."

"It's bodyguard and surveillance work."

"For Falcone?" you ask incredulously.

"A woman - a low risk target. Totally clean. Totally above board."

"What, is his mom in town or something?"

"She's a...friend of his."

You let that sink in. Falcone has a lady friend. One he likes enough to keep safe.

"Is this, like, a long term gig or what? And why me?"

"It's a cliche but you've got a particular set of skills."

"Yeah, if that's what you want to call it."

"Hey now, don't be down on yourself. You're good at what you do."

 _"Good at what I_ _do_ ," you repeat back, "Whatever. Fuck you."

"Falcone wants to talk in person. You can ask him all your questions then."

"In person?"

"Yeah. So, you might wanna, you know, get dressed."

"Wait, _now_?"

"That's why I'm here," he says, clearly irritated. You think about your options for a moment. If you were fast you could probably get to the kitchen before him - grab a knife. If he were anyone else you'd like your odds.

You peak back around the door.

"We used to be friends, _right_?" you ask in the sugariest, sweetest voice you can manage. He tilts his head side to side in a noncommittal gesture and makes a face.

"Eh...,"

"You'd tell me if this was a trap, wouldn't you? I'm not gonna follow you to Falcone and end up with my face on the back of a milk carton?"

He laughs dryly.

"This is the real deal."

"And it won't take all day? I need to be home by three."

"You really think it'll take five hours for Falcone to tell you how much he's paying?"

"Alright, just let me change into something reasonable. If I'm going to end up a corpse I want to at least be a stylish one."


End file.
